A Beginner's Guide to Stealing a God
by faufaren
Summary: Sephiroth is in the laboratories for a routine checkup when he meets an odd boy who asks him about the yellow of his voice. And tells him that catching clouds are a good way to get rid of the grey in his mind. (Or, in which Hojo steals a god and doesn't even know it.) Starts out pre-Crisis Core, diverges from canon. OC fic. Implied ASGZ. Rated for human experimentation.
1. Chapter 1:Yellow

The first time Sephiroth saw him was at his quarter-year checkup.

It was just a routine appointment with Professor Hojo, where he got his blood tested and his Mako shots shot and was essentially poked and prodded about and around the place like the good little specimen that he was. It was also something he had been dreading all morning ever since he woke up, leaving him in an even more awful mood than usual. And a cranky Sephiroth was a scary Sephiroth, and that meant that it sent all the people he passed in the hallway scampering out of his way and nearly gave his poor secretary heart failure.

His office that morning was undisturbed, as everyone in the department knew that when General Sephiroth was like that, he preferred his solitude. And so it was in blissful silence that he did his paperwork, looked over a few mission reports, frowned at a missive about a group of rowdy cadets loitering near the second floor bathrooms, and glanced at the clock at precise ten-minute intervals. He was due in the laboratories at eleven-thirty sharp. It would take approximately seven minutes to get there, with an additional two in case of traffic. (Hojo didn't like tardiness.)

At eleven twenty-one on the dot, Sephiroth left his office and took the elevator down to Shinra's underground laboratories. He arrived at exactly eleven-thirty, where he was ambushed by a scientist who ushered him to another room further in, despite the fact that he already knew where to go.

(Sometimes he felt that they treated him like he was something that would wilt and break if he didn't constantly live in an isolated, controlled environment. It didn't matter that he had mutated monsters twice his size at the time sicced on him during his early developmental years, or that he was unmatched in terms of combat ability and Mako enhancements.)

But as he progressed further into the massive laboratory, his enhanced hearing began to pick up the sounds of talking. And it wasn't Hojo who was speaking, which would have been nothing surprising since the professor was known among his department and his subjects to mutter aloud quite a bit.

It was- Sephiroth continued to get closer- a _young_ voice. One that was most certainly not Hojo, not unless he somehow found a way to reverse the effects of aging since Sephiroth last saw him, and even then he doubted that the professor's de-aged voice would sound like that.

"...oh this one's rather polka dotted, don't you think?"

(Dear Gaia, Sephiroth hoped for the sake of whatever mutated experiment the voice was talking about was not _actually_ polka dotted.)

"Get away from that cage, before it takes off a finger. The test subjects are not to be petted."

Ah, there was the good doctor. But who was the owner of the young voice? (And what, they were _petting_ the experiments?)

Sephiroth arrived at the examination room at last, and the first thing he noticed was the small boy perched on a metal table next to a more familiar figure in a white lab coat. Hojo turned to him as soon as he entered, and said, ever in that terribly grating voice, "Ah, there you are, Sephiroth. Why don't you take a seat over there while I finish this up?"

Silently, Sephiroth settled himself on one of the exam tables, ignoring how the smell of disinfectants and antiseptics (and, of course, there was the Mako) burned his nostrils with each intake of air. Instead, he turned his attention towards the other occupant in the room.

The boy couldn't possibly be older than fourteen, and seemed even younger with delicate features and skin that looked as if he hadn't seen the light of day in all his life. Which, Sephiroth allowed, was entirely plausible. But if that was so, why hadn't he seen this boy before?

Hojo wrapped up whatever he was fiddling around on the table and turned to him. Having done the exact same routine countless times before, Sephiroth knew by heart what was to be expected of him, and Hojo took the proffered arm, already in the motion of binding it with a rubber tie. The professor didn't say a thing to him.

"You should really do something about that gray in your head."

Sephiroth turned his head, and came face to face with the unidentified boy. Half a second later his brain finished analyzing the question, and concluded that he needed further inquiry. "Pardon me?" He asked.

"Clouds are a great way of getting rid of the gray. You should go find one before the gray eats up all the yellow," the boy continued. He blinked at the General, the odd glaze never leaving his eyes, which were an impossible shade of magenta, the hue somewhere between a vibrant red and lavender purple. "How is it that you speak in yellow? It's a very pleasant yellow, so you should be careful to keep it. I don't think you can get it back anywhere else if you lose it."

By now, it was all but confirmed to Sephiroth that this boy was another one of Hojo's inhumane experiments, but... he couldn't help but stare.

"Subject VII, occupy yourself somewhere else," Hojo said clinically, like he'd had to tell the boy this many times before. As the boy, now dubbed 'Subject VII', skipped breezily out the door, he added almost in afterthought, "And no petting the test subjects."

"Don't worry, professor, there are no clovers growing here," was the only reply, as nonsensical as everything else that came out of the boy's mouth before he disappeared out the door.

There was a moment of silence between Sephiroth and Hojo, who had finished taking his blood and was currently running tests on it. Then, as if sensing the questioning gaze on the back of his head (as he was still studying the electronic screens and taking notes in neat script, and therefore could not actually see the other man), Hojo suddenly said, "That was Subject VII. We had him transferred here from the Junon facilities two months ago. Fascinating, isn't he?"

All this was said with the prideful kind of tone that one used when boasting about a prized possession to its audience. Sephiroth said nothing, knowing that Hojo had more to say and didn't appreciate being interrupted. Especially when he talked about his projects. The professor liked to tell his most prized accomplishment all about his other experiments whenever there was a checkup.

"He's such a beautiful specimen, reared in our laboratories since infancy, you know. The things he says are complete nonsense, but tolerable enough if you ignore it. His ability to utilize magic from the very atmosphere around him far outweighs any instabilities in his psyche, after all."

Sephiroth almost raised his eyebrows in surprise, but refrained from doing so because Hojo disapproved of displays of any emotion. But there was still surprise, and something akin to amazement as he considered the boy with a new perspective. (And, what was that tone in Hojo's voice... was that... _fondness_? Yes, strangely enough, Hojo was _fond_ of his test subject. Sephiroth couldn't tell whether that was a good thing or not.)

"We call it natural magic," the professor rambled on, preparing the Mako shots now, handling the bottles and syringes with practiced grace. "It's a phenomenon, something that's never been seen in all of humanity's recorded history. Just imagine it- an army full of natural magic users... and with Mako infusions, it would be practically invincible. SOLDIER with natural magic. Shinra would be able to take over the world twice over."

This time, Sephiroth did narrow his eyes. Hojo couldn't possibly be planning on...

"You will not be experimenting on SOLDIER." It was the closest he could get to an order.

The hand that was tapping the bubbles to the top of the needle froze mid-flick, and Hojo slowly turned around to face the stoic man sitting on the exam table. "Hmm?" The scientist's voice was even more grating on the ears than normal, and fluorescent lights glinted in glasses over dull grey eyes. "You have no control over me."

Sephiroth steeled himself inwardly, but remained unmoving in his seat, ever conscious of his location in the laboratories, surrounded by white walls and steel. "As General of SOLDIER, I am on equal terms as you, Professor Hojo, Director of Science and Developmental Studies. You have no jurisdiction in the affairs of my SOLDIERs."

"But you forget... Who is more important to the President? You, or _me_?" The needle was jabbed into his flesh not so gently, and pain blossomed and spread as Hojo pushed the treated Mako into Sephiroth's bloodstream. "Who made the SOLDIER? Who is responsible for the enhancements that these soldiers are given?"

Sephiroth let out his breath slowly through his nose as the Mako spread throughout himself, burning like acid the entire way. His teeth unconsciously clenched. A movement that Hojo easily caught, having spent twenty-two years studying his body and everything it does. A smile curled over lips stretched thin over sharp bones, and Hojo sneered.

"Without me, your SOLDIERs would just be mere infantrymen, no different from the bumbling men that fool Heidegger presides over. Without me..." The scientist leaned over and Sephiroth could just barely smell the toothpaste mixed with sour breath through his Mako haze. "You wouldn't _exist_. We're done here."

And with that dismissal, Hojo returned to the station he was working at before, Sephiroth apparently forgotten.

The General sat frozen on the table a few moments more, but started moving when his desire to get out of the laboratories overpowered the growing pain in his muscles. He stood as gracefully as he could with new Mako coursing through his veins. It felt like _fire_. No matter how many times it was done to him, he would never get used to it- there was no becoming immune to Mako.

As he crossed the main laboratory to the entrance on the other side, he caught a glimpse of a small white form out of the corner of his eye. The boy that Hojo called Subject VII was sitting on one of the heavy steel cages that held something that looked to be a cross between a massive bull and a bald jaguar. It was sleeping, which was something Sephiroth felt somewhat grateful for. Hojo's mutated experiments never seemed to like him.

"Did you get a cloud yet?" The boy stared at him with those wide brilliant eyes as he approached. Then he frowned sadly. "Oh. No, you didn't. There's red in you too, now."

The boy's hair was absolutely _flyaway_ , Sephiroth noted, idly amused. He had never seen anything like it before, the white wispy tufts that stuck out of his scalp like some sort of strange fae straight out of a fairytale. It was far worse than even Angeal's student, Zackary Fair, with his own mess of shaggy spikes.

"What is your name?" He asked the boy, simple curiosity driving him, though it was likely he didn't know any other name apart from 'Subject VII'.

But to his surprise, the reply was, "Icarus."

Sephiroth considered the irony of the name, familiar with the greek mythological story of the son of Daedalus who tried to escape his father's castle on a pair of wings made of feathers and wax, who died when he went too close to the sun and the wax holding his wings together melted. He asked, just in case, "Just Icarus?"

The boy, newly dubbed Icarus (because Sephiroth much preferred that name than the dehumanizing one that Hojo gave his subjects), nodded. "Just Icarus."

"My name is Sephiroth," he offered, if only to be fair. Perhaps he felt pity for this young creature trapped in the laboratories at the scientists' mercies, just as he had been in his own youth.

Icarus tilted his head to one side in a rather endearing way. "Just Sephiroth?"

"Just Sephiroth."

"Just so." Icarus nodded sagely to himself again, as if all was right in the world. Sephiroth wished it was true. Still, this had to be the most serene of Hojo's experiments he'd ever seen. He studied the boy, and the dazed set to his dainty features and the glaze to his eyes, looking as if he was stuck in a perpetual dream while simultaneously interacting with the waking world.

It was right around this time that Sephiroth realized it was likely that Icarus was not entirely sane. He couldn't honestly fault him for it, given how the boy was probably brought up. (And imagine that, still sustaining his presence of mind even during the things that the scientists put him through. It was probably a mercy to lose one's mind instead.)

He found himself caught by those wide magenta eyes once again. Icarus smiled dreamily. "Your one-and-a-half sun is waiting," he told the bewildered man, making gentle shooing gestures with his hands. "Go."

So Sephiroth went, finding no further business with the boy. He found Angeal waiting just outside of the doors, and wondered just how Icarus somehow knew about it.

By Angeal's insistence, he was sent back to his apartment to take the rest of the day off with reassurances that all his paperwork would be made up for him. Halfway to his destination, he came to the possibility that perhaps, just perhaps, Hojo was wrong about it all being nonsense.

(And, if it wasn't nonsense, he went on to think about the meaning of the one-and-a-half sun and how it was related to Angeal.)


	2. Chapter 2: Pink

Sephiroth didn't see Hojo again for the next two weeks, and consequently, didn't see the strange boy named Icarus either.

However, he never forgot about it. Impeccable memory was something programed into him from childhood after all.

' _Reared in the laboratories since infancy...'_ He thought of Icarus, alone and surrounded by white walls and sterile steel, with nothing but scientists and the other test subjects for company. He thought of how human he seemed, yet treated like nothing more than a science experiment his entire life, and wondered how many of the boy's horrors matched those of his own.

The curiosity had never been this strong before. Perhaps it was because Icarus was the first human experiment under Hojo's care he'd met that had retained actual human logic. Sephiroth had seen others before, and knew that they never behaved like anything other than crazed killing machines, or monsters. But most of all, perhaps it was that Sephiroth could recall no records in which the President of Shinra ever gave Hojo the permission to retain a live human in the laboratories for experimentation.

So it was on a late Sunday afternoon, when he had nothing to do to distract him from thinking that he found himself sitting at his kitchen counter nursing a mug of tea and doing exactly that.

The door to his apartment suddenly opened, then shut, and he heard someone taking off their heavy combat boots at the entryway. A moment later Genesis strutted into the kitchen, with all the usual dramatic flare even without his flaming red leather coat, which was left on the hanger at the door.

There was a pause, as Sephiroth stared impassively at the redhead and Genesis stared back. Then Genesis raised both eyebrows and settled gracefully into a stool across from Sephiroth.

" _Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess, we seek it thus, and take to the sky."_ Unsurprisingly, LOVELESS was the first thing that came out of Genesis's mouth.

Sephiroth kept the expression blank on his face, and sipped his tea. It was little more than lukewarm now. He put the mug down, somewhat displeased. "LOVELESS, first act." He identified, and easily picked out the second hidden meaning, honed from years of practice with Genesis's recitations. "Did Angeal set you up to this?"

Genesis rolled his eyes. "Yes, dear Sephiroth," he conceded. "He did ask me, but we're all dying to know what has been on your mind lately. Even the idiot puppy is concerned."

"I am fine." Sephiroth resisted the urge to frown. "I've only been... thinking."

"Obviously, but you're thinking so much you're becoming distracted at work." Genesis suppressed a sigh of annoyance. Getting straight answers out of the silver-haired General was like pulling _teeth_. "It's not like you to allow distractions when it comes to your work. So what's been bothering you?"

Sephiroth came to the conclusion that anything less than satisfactory was going to keep Genesis nagging at him. He finally asked, "Do you recall the appointment I had with Professor Hojo?"

"Yes... that was more than two weeks ago." Genesis frowned. "What of it?"

"I met someone while I was at the laboratory. Not a scientist."

Genesis leaned forward. "Who?"

"' _What_ ,'" Sephiroth corrected him. "Another human experiment, one that was not completely driven insane-" He cut the words off in his throat, feeling himself begin to babble. He drummed his fingers on his leg, a nervous habit he stopped when he realized what he was doing.

Having known the other man long enough to understand that Sephiroth being this bothered meant that there was more to tell about this poor human experiment, Genesis also knew when some tact was required. Despite all the cold exterior and the meters-thick wall of ice around his heart, Sephiroth was a sensitive soul. Thus, Genesis forced down his impatience (honestly, he had no idea why Angeal asked him of _all people_ to do this), and gently prompted again, " _Who?"_

"Professor Hojo gave him the name of Subject VII..." Sephiroth began, sounding like he was reading from a textbook because of the way he was choosing his words very, very carefully. "He has the ability to utilize magic without materia. Professor Hojo is attempting to replicate this in other humans through artificial means. He was raised in a laboratory since infancy."

 _Just like me_. The words were unspoken, but Genesis wondered how much Sephiroth saw himself in Subject VII.

"I thought Hojo didn't have the legal contracts from Shinra to experiment on another human." Because for all that Shinra's reputation was power hungry and immoral, even the President drew the line at experimenting on his own species. When it was discovered a few years ago that Hojo was conducting live human experimentation with men taken from the infantry army, the scientist was forced to stop all progress immediately and shut the operation down, and the science department's budget was slashed drastically for the next four years. Still, the company didn't fire Hojo. Apparently, his contributions were more valuable than his flaws.

"I looked on the database," Sephiroth told him. "He was listed as 'company property.'"

And there was yet another correlation.

(Genesis could remember a time long ago when they were still young and only in the early beginnings of a tentative friendship, Sephiroth had mentioned offhandedly his displeasure of his constant visits to Hojo's labs. Genesis, shamelessly envious of the younger man, who was ridiculously strong and seemed to be perfect in every way of the word and yet, had the nerve to complain about it, got into a heated fight with Sephiroth. Angeal had been the only one there to buffer the argument and it ended in Sephiroth striding out the door, announcing that as an employee of the company, he was entitled to have a say in his treatments at the laboratories.

The following day they didn't see a glimpse of the General anywhere, and it was only very late at night that Angeal heard someone stumble in through his apartment door and got out of bed to check who it was, knowing that only two other people knew the passcode. The sight of Sephiroth, shaken and white as paper, shock and disbelief and denial written all over his fine features, had Angeal calling for Genesis immediately as he made Sephiroth sit down before he could fall down. When Genesis arrived, he had stopped in place at the sight of Sephiroth so far gone from his normal spotless composure, and he wasn't able to utter a word the entire time that Angeal tried to coax the story out of Sephiroth's frozen lips.

" _Property_." Was the first thing he told them when Sephiroth finally decided to divulge what he had learned. " _I am the company's property. No official medical records, no legal documents, not even a birth certificate. I have no rights nor do I have any liberties aside from what the company allows me to have. So tell me..._

 _"What proof do I have that I am human?"_

It was in that time that Sephiroth finally looked up at them and not at the cup of hot water Angeal had placed into his hands, and they both realized how very utterly lost this man really was, all those layers upon layers of carefully painted perfection transparent for one night.)

People problems were really not one of his strong suits. Genesis acknowledged that, sighed, and did what he knew best- quote LOVELESS.

" _Ripples form on the water's surface, the wandering soul knows no rest."_

To that, Sephiroth gave a solemn nod.

* * *

Shinra's General and two Commanders were gathered in Sephiroth's office, surrounded by neat and ordered books on floor-to-ceiling shelves, a filing cabinet at the side, a large mahogany desk, the leather chair behind it (which Genesis had titled 'Sephiroth's Throne'), and the lone guest chair in front of it.

Sephiroth's silver hair was illuminated _just so_ by the backlight of the morning sun coming in through the large windows behind him, that he looked unmistakably like an angelic being descended from the heavens, but Angeal and Genesis were looking not at him but at the young boy he had in front of him.

"It is an... unexpected development," Sephiroth eventually said, putting his hands on Icarus's shoulders and gently pushing him forward, as if presenting him to his two companions. "But as of this morning, Hojo has entrusted his care to me. His name is Icarus."

Another few seconds crawled by as Genesis and Angeal processed the words. A muscle in Angeal's cheek twitched, as he seemed to be unable to tear his eyes away from the strange boy until he asked, "Hojo entrusted a... child to you. Why? And how long?"

"It is to educate him in the social skills of common society, and to gain experience doing so," Sephiroth answered succinctly. Then he frowned (or did the equivalent of one, because only the people who knew him personally could ever see the near-imperceptible changes that was Sephiroth's version of making expressions). "Hojo gave me instructions in which I am to follow regarding Icarus's care, as well as his schedule for appointments in the laboratories. You two are to aide me in this task. It was not said for how long."

"Sephiroth," Genesis said. "Is 'Subject VII' this boy?"

"Yes. His name is Icarus." Sephiroth repeated adamantly, and suddenly they noticed how the man had both his hands on top of either of the boy's shoulders, the way he cast his shadow over him as if to shield from the sun, the protective stance he had assumed.

Goodness gracious, thought Genesis, the boy was absolutely _tiny_. He barely stood to Sephiroth mid-chest, and looked unbearably fragile next to that powerful, mako-enhanced body. Genesis had a moment of doubt of the boy's survival in the SOLDIER division, even with Sephiroth as his watcher every waking moment.

"You never quite mentioned how young he was," Genesis commented to the General.

"It was not asked of me."

"It would have been rather nice to know." _That Shinra's scientists had yet another child in their clutches with full liberty to do whatever they wanted to him._ That much was left unsaid, but they knew enough to read between the words.

Angeal had a frown on his face, largely displeased at this new discovery. He, of course, had heard of Subject VII, but only secondhand from Genesis. "How old is he actually?"

"The exact date isn't specified in his files," Sephiroth nodded towards the thin manilla folder on his desk. "But he is around fifteen years of age."

"And Hojo dumped him on us." Angeal's eyebrows furrowed even deeper, not at the thought of having to take care of Icarus but rather that Hojo held such little regard for other human beings. He crossed his arms, mentally checking things off in his head as he said it out loud. "He can move into Sephiroth's apartment since he has a spare bedroom anyway. I'll introduce him to Zack. He has a way with the cadets, who aren't too far from Icarus's age. And he needs new clothes. I won't have him walking around in that-"

He searched for the word to describe Icarus's white medical garb, looking as if he had been plucked right out of the labs. Which, Angeal knew, he was. "-outfit. I'll have Zack or myself take him shopping as soon as I get the chance."

"Cluck, cluck," Genesis muttered under his breath. "You're letting your maternal colors show, dear Angeal."

During their entire discussion, Icarus had only blinked at the office in silence, then finally shifted his magenta gaze to the men around him, and spoke for the first time since the meeting. "You're all getting too much blue in you, it's blocking out the pink," he told them knowledgeably. "The star river will come. You wouldn't want that."

There sat another awkward silence. And then Genesis uttered a flabbergasted "What?" and turned an expectant look to Sephiroth for an explanation.

He only gave him the tiniest of shrugs and gently guided Icarus towards Angeal, who looked as if he was positively _itching_ to administer what his friends called his 'mother hen' instincts on the small boy.

"Hello, Icarus, my name is Angeal Hewley." Angeal smiled softly at Icarus and laid a massive hand on his back. "Come, I'll show you your new living quarters."

"What a lovely shade of green you are, Angeal Hewley. It has none of the ripples you see in other people."

"Pardon me? Oh... thank you, Icarus. You can just call me Angeal."

"Alright then, Angeal."

As they walked away, Sephiroth turned back to Genesis with an almost troubled look on his face. Genesis decided to ask him.

"Sephiroth," he said. "What is it that Icarus speaks of? It makes no sense whatsoever."

"Hojo believes it nonsense." Sephiroth picked up the folder, considered it in his hand for a second... then put it back down and took a seat behind his desk. "You have seen, Icarus is not entirely _there_."

"Not entirely there?" Genesis scoffed, and dropped down into the guest chair with a flourish, crossing his legs over the knee. "That's certainly evident."

"However, I have reason to suspect that his words do have some sort of meaning to them. I just have to search for it."

"Oh? And what reason is that?"

"Plausible deniability. I will refrain from responding until I have more information."

"Hmph." Genesis scoffed, then quoted, " _When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end, The goddess descends from the sky, Wings of light and dark spread afar. She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting."_

"LOVELESS, Prologue." Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. "Icarus is not the Goddess, Genesis. Nor is he a Cetra." Then he paused. "At least, it does not say that in Hojo's notes."

" _The wind sails over the water's surface, Quietly, but surely."_

"Genesis. Stop that."


End file.
